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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23382847">enough of it</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/glassy_light/pseuds/glassy_light'>glassy_light</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pride and Prejudice (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Gen, also stay safe ! wash ur hands queens!, but enjoy! its sappy and cute, just saying "fuck it" and posting all my drafts w/o editing them :'), maybe it will cheer u up?? the world is a mess, these are not helpful at all sorry, ur not living if ur not making it by the skin ov ur teeth xoxo, yeet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:56:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,072</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23382847</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/glassy_light/pseuds/glassy_light</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth has had enough of Darcy's lack of enthusiasm and takes it upon herself to show him how, in the right company, a ball can be enormously fun.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>105</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>enough of it</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It wasn’t that Lizzy hated balls, rather that had enough of them. Enough of gawking at parlors decorated in the french style (all that white and gold seemed to her, after all this time lingering in them, rather overdone), enough of doing up her hair (the pins always slipped free by the end of the night), enough of dancing with men she didn’t know and had no wish to (especially now after her troubles with Mr. Collins). And perhaps enough of Darcy and his cold and distant manner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She in fact rather liked balls, even had a penchant for dancing. She did not indulge in frivolity the way her sisters did, however, but attended such festivities with a casual ease and an understanding that life was meant to be enjoyed. But here, in the rolling night mists of late June, she was feeling a desire for solitude. While she laced her stays and slipped into her chemise and buttoned all those tedious pearl buttons on her white gown, she did so with a resigned sort of commitment to duty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eldest sister, now a Bingley by marriage, had not directly insisted that she attend the dance, merely sent an invitation encompassing the whole family. Elizabeth was thankful for this and used it as permission to, after a few cursory “hello’s” and a round of disinterested dancing, linger at the fringes of the crowd. She reminded herself that Darcy, wherever he was in the fray of spinning dancers and laughter, was likely doing the very same, and that it was just the sort of action she hated him for. And then, because she was good with excuses, she told herself that her social stupor was just a passing mood, while Darcy’s was a perennial affliction of his character. Thusly, hers was perfectly justifiable while his was most certainly not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She nodded to herself, plucked a small fluted crystal of champagne from a footman making the rounds, and let herself float out onto the patio overlooking the garden. After all, one must sate one’s own heart first and foremost, and hers wanted to be under the stars. Her mother could hardly expect her to mingle with suitors with such a distant mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was peaceful, the far-off fields and forest illuminated by a milky haze of moonlight, the summer air perfumed by the garden below her. She could make out gravel walks and the immaculate hedge, and remembered faintly that there was a rather beautiful fountain with marble bust somewhere in the verdant sea down the steps. She left her empty glass on the balustrade, and picked her way down the marble stoop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She walked for some time, content among the flowers and fresh air, the soothing rustle of leaves in the soft exhaling breeze. When she found the fountain she was greatly pleased by it, and went to sit on the edge of it. It was not a marble bust, but rather a marble lion, dribbling water from its stone mouth. Perhaps she was mixing up Netherfield and Pemberly? Yes, now that she turned it over in her mind she remembered Pemberly’s sculptures…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ms. Bennet?” The solemn tone broke the silence. If she wasn’t so enraptured by the fountain, Elizabeth would have earth the crunching of the gravel walk, but hadn’t and so startled at the sound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Darcy caught her with a hand around her upper arm, and then froze in what was possibly the most hysterically awkward display Elizabeth had ever seen. She gently pried his hand from the sleeve of her gown and slipped down from her perch on the edge of the fountain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is I,” she was trying very hard to match his tone, and was finding difficulty in not smiling. What a funny man! Surely his education at Eton should have molded him into a picture of social grace, but it had failed and failed miserably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” He floundered for something to say, hands folded behind his back, “You are the last person I thought I would find out here. What was it you told me? About dancing being the best way to enjoy company?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am not in the mood to enjoy company tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why attend?” He seemed to suddenly notice how close they were, and shifted away slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My sister would be sorely offended.”</span>
</p><p><span>“Don’t you think she will be sorely offended to hear you escaped out into the night?”</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Hmm,” Elizabeth turned back to gazing into the fountain and rested her elbows on the stone, “Why are you out here? I thought Bingly to be your dearest friend.”</span></p><p>
  <span>“Which is why I attended the dance at all,” he moved to stand next to her, “and though I am here, I have no desire to be as festive and foolish as my compatriots.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Festive is not synonymous with foolish, Darcy, don’t use it as such.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? I always thought them to be one in the same.” She couldn’t tell if his tone was a pretense over thinly-veiled enthusiasm, or if it was just another odd facet of his manner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we are not in the same position after all, because while I know the joy of a pleasant dance and have merely retired from it for the night, you don’t understand it at all.” When she looked up into his face, it was as locked tight against what must have read as a scathing. He stayed quiet and directed all of his attention to a blooming honeysuckle rather than her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Darcy, now is when you ask me for the next dance, so that I might show you the joy of it.” Elizabeth could no longer help it; her face split in a grin that she tried to cover with one hand. He was hopelessly bad at these things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Forgive me, Ms. Bennet. Let us step back,” his face was blazing, even in the dark, “May I have the next dance, so that you might make known to me the cause of your fondness for dancing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” She leaned back and pretended to think, “Oh, alright. But only because no one else would take it upon themselves to show you.” This time Darcy could hear the laughter in her voice, and almost laughed himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Ms. Bennet. Thank you very much.” He offered his elbow, which she took with great amusement, and they walked in a comfortable silence back through the garden.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
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